Hooray Say The Roses

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1. Red Roses Tommy is three and when he’s bad His mother dances with him. She puts on the record, “Red Roses for a Blue Lady” And throws him across the room. Mind you, She never laid a hand on him. He gets red roses in different places, The head, that time he was as sleepy as a […]...
2. Blue Roses Roses red and roses white Plucked I for my love’s delight. She would none of all my posies Bade me gather her blue roses. Half the world I wandered through, Seeking where such flowers grew. Half the world unto my quest Answered me with laugh and jest. Home I came at wintertide, But my silly […]...
3. A Bunch of Roses Roses ruddy and roses white, What are the joys that my heart discloses? Sitting alone in the fading light Memories come to me here tonight With the wonderful scent of the big red roses. Memories come as the daylight fades Down on the hearth where the firelight dozes; Flicker and flutter the lights and shades, […]...
4. Asking For Roses A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, With doors that none but the wind ever closes, Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster; It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses. I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary; ‘I wonder,’ I say, ‘who the owner of those is.’ ‘Oh, […]...
5. LONDON ROSES “ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!” they tell you Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you. Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun, Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you Roses of London town, red till the summer is done. Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming West End, East End, wondrously budding […]...
6. Throw Roses THROW roses on the sea where the dead went down. The roses speak to the sea, And the sea to the dead. Throw roses, O lovers- Let the leaves wash on the salt in the sun....
7. Roses (For Katherine Bregy) I went to gather roses and twine them in a ring, For I would make a posy, a posy for the King. I got an hundred roses, the loveliest there be, From the white rose vine and the pink rose bush and from the red Rose tree. But when I took my […]...
8. Roses You love the roses – so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be […]...
9. Time of Roses It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the time of roses – We pluck’d them as we pass’d! That churlish season never frown’d On early lovers yet: O no-the world was newly crown’d With flowers when first we met! ‘Twas twilight, and I bade you go, But still you […]...
10. With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses I saw Lord Buddha towering by my gate Saying: “Once more, good youth, I stand and wait.” Saying: “I bring you my fair Law of Peace And from your withering passion full release; Release from that white hand that stabbed you so. The road is calling. With the wind you go, Forgetting her imperious disdain […]...
11. Women And Roses I. I dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? II. Round and round, like a dance of snow In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go Floating the women faded for ages, Sculptured in stone, on the poet’s pages. Then follow women fresh and gay, […]...
12. When Roses cease to bloom, Sir When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun The hand that paused to gather Upon this Summer’s day Will idle lie in Auburn Then take my flowers pray!...
13. UPON ROSES Under a lawn, than skies more clear, Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem’d to lie As in a flowery nunnery; They blush’d, and look’d more fresh than flowers Quickened of late by pearly showers; And all, because they were possest But of the heat of Julia’s breast, Which, as a warm […]...
14. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA I dreamt the Roses one time went To meet and sit in Parliament; The place for these, and for the rest Of flowers, was thy spotless breast. Over the which a state was drawn Of tiffany, or cob-web lawn; Then in that Parly all those powers Voted the Rose the Queen of flowers; But so, […]...
15. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
16. Reptiles And Roses So crystal clear it is to me That when I die I cease to be, All else seems sheer stupidity. All promises of Paradise Are wishful thinking, preacher’s lies, Dogmatic dust flung in our eyes. Yea, life’s immortal, swift it flows Alike in reptile and in rose, But as it comes, so too it goes. […]...
17. To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses As late I rambled in the happy fields, What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew From his lush clover covert;-when anew Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields; I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields, A fresh-blown musk-rose; ’twas the first that threw Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew As is […]...
18. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
19. Roses And Rue (To L. L.) Could we dig up this long-buried treasure, Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love’s song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is fled Call back its dead, Could we live it all over again, Were it worth the pain! I remember we used to meet […]...
20. The Rapture of the Year While skies glint bright with bluest light Through clouds that race o’er fields and town, And leaves go dancing left and right, And orchard apples tumble down; While school-girls sweet, in lane or street, Lean ‘gainst the wind and feel and hear Its glad heart like a lover’s beat, So reigns the rapture of the […]...
21. Awake To Smile When I blink sunshine in my eyes And hail the amber morn, Before the rosy dew-drop dries With sparkle on the thorn; When boughs with robin rapture ring, And bees hum in the may, Then call me young, with heart of Spring, Though I be grey. But when no more I know the joy And […]...
22. January 2 The old war is over the new one has begun Between drivers and pedestrians on a Friday In New York light is the variable and structure The content according to Rodrigo Moynihan’s Self-portraits at the Robert Miller Gallery where The painter is serially pictured holding a canvas, Painting his mirror image, shirtless in summer, With […]...
23. The Three Roses When the buds began to burst, Long ago, with Rose the First I was walking; joyous then Far above all other men, Till before us up there stood Britonferry’s oaken wood, Whispering, “Happy as thou art, Happiness and thou must part.” Many summers have gone by Since a Second Rose and I (Rose from the […]...
24. Testimony Regarding a Ghost THE ROSES slanted crimson sobs On the night sky hair of the women, And the long light-fingered men Spoke to the dark-haired women, “Nothing lovelier, nothing lovelier.” How could he sit there among us all Guzzling blood into his guts, Goblets, mugs, buckets- Leaning, toppling, laughing With a slobber on his mouth, A smear of […]...
25. Said The Poet To The Analyst My business is words. Words are like labels, Or coins, or better, like swarming bees. I confess I am only broken by the sources of things; As if words were counted like dead bees in the attic, Unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings. I must always forget who one words is able […]...
26. Story Tired of a landscape known too well when young: The deliberate shallow hills, the boring birds Flying past rocks; tired of remembering The village children and their naughty words, He abandoned his small holding and went South, Recognised at once his wished-for lie In the inhabitants’ attractive mouth, The church beside the marsh, the hot […]...
27. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
28. My Bees: An Allegory “O bees, sweet bees!” I said, “that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles. Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.” Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield, I set, and patient for the autumn’s yield Of sweet I waited. When the village bells Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells […]...
29. PREMATURE SPRING DAYS full of rapture, Are ye renew’d? Smile in the sunlight Mountain and wood? Streams richer laden Flow through the dale, Are these the meadows? Is this the vale? Coolness cerulean! Heaven and height! Fish crowd the ocean, Golden and bright. Birds of gay plumage Sport in the grove, Heavenly numbers Singing above. Under the […]...
30. THE EPOCHS ON Petrarch’s heart, all other days before, In flaming letters written, was impress d GOOD FRIDAY. And on mine, be it confess’d, Is this year’s ADVENT, as it passeth o’er. I do not now begin, I still adore Her whom I early cherish’d in my breast;, Then once again with prudence dispossess’d, And to whose […]...
31. The Way At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted Out by the grasses Sweeping triumphant across it, it wound between hedges of roses Whose blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on The water, While hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with Singing. It widened a highway, […]...
32. The Most here comes the fishhead singing Here comes the baked potato in drag Here comes nothing to do all day long Here comes another night of no sleep Here comes the phone wringing the wrong tone Here comes a termite with a banjo Here comes a flagpole with blank eyes Here comes a a cat and […]...
33. Sisters Sisters – Heaviness and Tenderness – you look the same. Wasps and bees both suck the heavy rose. Man dies, and the hot sand cools again. Carried off on a black stretcher, yesterday’s sun goes. Oh, honeycombs’ heaviness, nets’ tenderness, It’s easier to lift a stone than to say your name! I have one purpose […]...
34. What would I give to see his face? What would I give to see his face? I’d give I’d give my life of course But that is not enough! Stop just a minute let me think! I’d give my biggest Bobolink! That makes two Him and Life! You know who “June” is I’d give her Roses a day from Zanzibar And Lily tubes […]...
35. On a Honey Bee Thou born to sip the lake or spring, Or quaff the waters of the stream, Why hither come on vagrant wing? Does Bacchus tempting seem Did he, for you, the glass prepare? Will I admit you to a share? Did storms harrass or foes perplex, Did wasps or king-birds bring dismay Did wars distress, or […]...
36. The Patriot An Old Story I It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad. The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, A year ago on this very day! II The air broke into a mist with bells, The old walls rocked with the […]...
37. Poetry it Takes A lot of Desperation Dissatisfaction And Disillusion To Write A Few Good Poems. It’s not For Everybody Either to Write It Or even to Read It....
38. In Tall Grass BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters. And I ask no better a winding sheet (over the earth and under the sun.) Let the bees go honey-hunting with yellow blur of wings […]...
39. Bee-attitudes in the shadow Of the flower Is the sting The bee driven by need Uses its painful gift To keep its sense of beauty In proportion It does its job with A thoughtless dedication Its honeyed world Excites no inner space Bees are not poets Who wade through words With too much brain Around their […]...
40. Spires of the fireweed Spires of the fireweed on the fretted sky – Tints of magenta on tranquility, Do you feel nurture for the life within, The burst of bloom that yields your progeny. Do you have sense of flowering’s fleeting glow, Bearing its part in continuity To charge the seed and rip its casing wall And float its […]...